Month: February 2020

The vase needs water; at this rate, the flowers won’t last much longer. So I pick up the glass vase, still full of greens, reds, purples and yellows, and bring it to the sink. I lift up the stems, trying to avoid the thorny ones, and stream some fresh water in from the tap. I bring it back to its spot on the wide, flat windowsill, and admire the way it is a lively contrast to the bare, winter-naked trees just outside.

I only have one vase, at least that’s the way it seems. I’ve gotten a few over the years but they’re scattered somewhere, surely full of dust, and one full of old palms that have become crispy over time. I didn’t want to risk a pile of palms crumbling all over my living room floor, so all of the flowers have gone in the one remaining vase.

The red roses are the freshest, just a few days old. Lovely and plump for Valentine’s Day, straight from the grocery store (my unironic favorite – seriously, grocery store flowers last a long time!) along with armfuls of goodies for the kids. Then come the baby’s breath, then bunched in the middle is the wildflower bouquet from the neighbor, marking the four years it’s been since my mother died. She’s so sweet to remember, every year, without fail – one of the only ones who doesn’t need a Facebook post to be reminded.  This year was harder than the last, I think, for reasons I am not entirely sure of, and so this year the flowers (and their lovely colors, both ordinary and extraordinary at the same time) were especially welcome.

Such a simple thing, flowers in a vase, sitting on a windowsill. But it does not escape me that the roses, given to me on a day that signifies love, surround the flowers that remind me of loss. In this vase, love and loss do not exist without the other. I didn’t plan that arrangement. I really just pushed the flowers in where they fit, but there it is just the same; and it is because of this particular mix of flowers that I feel especially grateful today: that I am on all sides cared for and loved during the moments of my life that are the hardest.

My wish and hope for you is the same: may you always be surrounded by love and beauty, even in the most difficult of times.

Until next time, be well!
Christy

***

About the author: Christy Gualtieri is a freelance writer specializing in pop culture, religion, and motherhood. She lives in Pittsburgh with her husband and two children. Christy also blogs at asinglehour.wordpress.com and tweets @agapeflower117. You can  follow her here on eTalkTherapy for inspirational articles and different perspectives as they relate to good mental health.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I went to the movies to see the new remake of Little Women. (I love the story, and the adaptation was pretty enjoyable! I’d recommend it.) On the way there, the song “No Scrubs” by TLC came on the radio, and although it’s rare to hear it, the station had decided to include the rap solo that usually gets cut out of radio edits. The rap mentioned the word “Filas,” which most members of the late Gen-X (of which I am a member) and the early Millennials will recognize as a shoe brand. They were the brand that everyone wanted when I was in high school. The most popular kids wore them, great pains were taken to make sure they were kept clean, and plenty of famous people sported them when they went out.

I do not intend any disrespect to the company, which is still around and I am sure continues to make fantastic products, but I had not thought about Filas in a solid twenty years before that car ride. That led me to wonder about the things that last, not only fads that have had their time in the sun, but the things that last for us personally. What are the things that you were so invested in decades ago that you’ve completely forgotten now? What personal claims did you stake? What were the biggest issues that consumed you and eventually fell away with time?

And for that matter – what things stayed?

Little Women was first published in the late 1860s and has been remade several times for a reason – its themes of sisterhood, young love, feminism and sacrifice have resonated with each generation that have come after it. Those things have all withstood the test of time. Plenty of books and movies have come and gone and will never be heard from again. (Although I did just hear that there’s another installment of the “National Treasure” movies in the works, so maybe not all is lost.)

It’s kind of funny to think about the things that stay. How the things we worry about so much only stay because we hold onto them so tightly. What are the things in your life that you’ve held on to – for better or for worse? We all have things we should let go of but we just can’t, no matter how hard we try; and maybe it’ll be years before we finally let them go. But there are things that we hope will be around a good long time more than we will, the invisible laws that are written on our hearts. Love. Kindness. Mercy.

If you have a few seconds, take some time to think about the things you want to keep in your life. What do you want to pass on to the next generation? What things matter the most, and which are just a flash in the pan? Maybe it would do you good, and all of us, really to orient ourselves and put our energies into those things, the lasting things. All the rest, as they say, can be history.

Until next time, be well!
Christy

***

About the author: Christy Gualtieri is a freelance writer specializing in pop culture, religion, and motherhood. She lives in Pittsburgh with her husband and two children. Christy also blogs at asinglehour.wordpress.com and tweets @agapeflower117. You can  follow her here on eTalkTherapy for inspirational articles and different perspectives as they relate to good mental health.